


One morning

by another_Hero



Series: Ace Debbie Not Lou [3]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Debbie is a self-indulgent mf, Debbie is fine actually but maybe not as attentive to Lou's feelings as she should be, F/F, I did consider not writing it but lmao that is not the choice I made, I'm very ace and I don't know why I did this to myself lol, ace sex, communication porn, if u don't want to read ur v ace fav having v ace sex, queerplatonic, that's cool! skip this, this is actually a better place for the tag, this is some angsty ace shit and I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16093241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_Hero/pseuds/another_Hero
Summary: in the au where Debbie is hella ace and Lou is hella not and they are trying to figure out their life, uh, Debbie feels inclined to bone and has basically no feelings about it, and then there's Lou. (this is part of a series and you don't need to read the whole thing but the ace-ness of Debbie is necessary background.)





	One morning

“Good dream?”

“Fuck you.” Debbie put her hands over her face.

“Me?”

Debbie didn’t actually remember who had been having sex in her dream. “I don’t know. That isn’t the relevant detail I’ve woken up with.”

“The relevant detail is that it was really horny?”

“Ugh,” said Debbie. “You know, I only want to have sex _maybe_  three times a year, but since I generally structure my life to avoid it, those are inconvenient times.” She got up and walked into the bathroom.

“I didn’t know you even liked sex.” It occurred to Debbie—it hadn’t before—that listening to her bedmate’s sex dream might have gotten to Lou. She looked over; Lou’s head was tilted at her, her face in a bit of a frown.

“No, I’m pretty ambivalent about it pretty much all of the time. When I want it, that’s pretty abstract. Not a particular person or a particular thing, just like...some help might be nice.” She grinned, almost laughed, and started brushing her teeth. “It’ll go away if I don’t think about it.”

“You can wait to talk until you're done,” Lou said from the closet.

Not immediately but soon, Debbie said with toothpaste in her mouth: “You wouldn’t—that’d be weird, right? Boundary-crossing? Not fair?”

Lou stared at her. “Are you propositioning me? Please spit out your toothpaste before you answer that.”

Debbie did. “I mean…”

Lou brought her hands up over her face. “When I say you’re going to be the death of me, I don’t mean it as an endearment.”

“Then no,” said Debbie. “Anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable or sad, I don’t want it.”

“I know you don’t.” Lou lifted her head, looked toward the doorway where Debbie was standing. “What do you like?”

“What do I—um,” and Debbie was trying to hold the feeling in her body now, the one she woke up with, knowing it could pass, “mouth kissing is still weird, no time for anything too gentle—” Lou chuckled; Debbie allowed it— “I’m not all that into fluids—” and this time Lou _laughed_ , and Debbie joined her because she was talking to Lou about having sex with Lou and if Lou wanted it Debbie wanted her to have it but all she could think to say was “I’m not all that into fluids.” Had she named a single thing she actually _did_ like?

“Of course you’re not,” Lou said. She sat on the bed and pulled her knees up in front of her, wrapping her arms around them, and apology tugged at Debbie’s belly. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well, because even though I don’t usually, right now I actually want to touch somebody, and if you’d like to do that then now is a good time, even if I can’t…”

“Want me,” Lou finished.

Debbie gave half a shrug. “To me it seems risky,” she said. “But more risky for you than for me, and I don’t know, you might think it’s worth it.”

Lou smiled. “I’m not as pathetic as you think.” It didn’t sound as light as Debbie figured it was meant to.

“That’s ridiculous,” said Debbie. “I just think you deserve—” she didn’t fill in the kinds of touch she was imagining, the ghost hands she was feeling now on her sides. She did sit down behind Lou, put her legs around Lou’s, lean against her back.

“You?” said Lou, her voice pretty close to normal. “That’s what you think I deserve?”

“Everything you want,” said Debbie, with all the calm of someone who didn’t really like fucking but had woken up feeling mildly inclined to it.

Lou’s voice had darkened by the time she asked, “And what do you want right now?”

Debbie set her open mouth by Lou’s ear and breathed. She might not have meant it the way her partner would, but, “I want to feel you shake,” she murmured, and it was nothing but true. She had always wanted this for Lou, only now it didn't feel like it would come at her own expense. Her eyes were open, so she saw Lou’s fall almost closed. “Is that what you want?”

"I can go there," Lou said, nodding, not looking quite as blase as she sounded.

Debbie left a kiss right below that ear while she slid her hands down to the bottom of the loose t-shirt Lou had worn to bed. “Can I touch you?”

Lou had pulled herself together and now said, “Do.” While Debbie made her mouth busy at Lou’s neck, her hands ghosted up Lou’s sides until Lou said “take it off,” and Debbie interpreted that to mean both the shirt and the boxers, and Lou helped, and then her hands went up first while she sucked her way down Lou’s spine, and when she got too low to bend she pulled her legs back to sit on her knees, danced her hands up Lou’s thighs, and sucked lower until she felt a jerk when her mouth hit Lou’s waist. Then Lou turned around and pulled Debbie up and laid her back and, after a hand at her buttons was met with a nod, undressed her, and she shoved a knee between Debbie’s legs and pulled Debbie’s right hand nearly where she wanted it, and Debbie slid a finger and then two inside her while she rubbed wide, then narrowing, horseshoes with her thumb. Three, when Lou asked for another and reacted like something was _happening_ to her. Debbie had seen this before, but never from anyone important, so as her fingers moved more and her thumb focused, she listened in mild fascination to the sounds Lou made, mostly for confirmation that anything she did was working; she pressed against Lou’s thigh, tightening the insides of her own.

“Can I please—” said Lou, her mouth right over Debbie’s, and Debbie said a quick “yeah,” and she didn’t feel much in Lou’s mouth on hers but she tried to kiss back how Lou would want. It only lasted a minute, and Debbie didn’t make eye contact right when Lou pulled back because she didn’t want to find out that it was important. But Lou’s teeth were on her ear soon enough, on her neck, soon not really biting but still there, and then on her shoulder while Lou shook and gone when Lou went taut and then went soft. Debbie had thought it would take longer. For her it would take longer.

She looked up, wanted to make sure this was all still fine, and Lou wasn’t making eye contact but, once she had propped herself on her hands, looking right down at Debbie naked beneath her. “Can I—” she said.

“Yes,” said Debbie, who did not intend to be swayed from her plans of getting off as long as Lou was good, “anything, whatever you want.”

But Lou asked and asked. “Can I touch your tits?” she said, and then, “Do you like me to press them or pinch them,” and then, “Do you want me to use my mouth,” and then, “Should I bite them,” and then, “Can I kiss your neck,” and then, “Do you want me to use my mouth or my hands,” and then, “Can I touch your thighs,” until eventually Debbie realized that Lou was pulling out of her a series of breathy yesses and demands and started giving them even when they weren’t solicited, “keep doing that” and “harder” and “yes” and “Lou” and once or twice “not there.” Lou was breathing harder than Debbie was, was working harder, and she touched Lou because Lou was touching her and Lou should feel like they were together and eventually Lou did something that made Debbie stop worrying about her entirely and there were minutes of that, maybe, or longer or shorter or who the fuck actually cared.

She tugged on Lou's elbow. "More? Again? You good?"

"I think I'm good," Lou said. So Debbie went to the bathroom and, when she came out, brought a damp washcloth for Lou, who was still lying on her side on the bed. Debbie cleaned her face and hands as tenderly as she knew how and then handed her the washcloth; she took it but wiped her knee with it and then went into the bathroom herself. Debbie dressed and went to put on coffee and stripped the bed while Lou dressed, and Debbie didn’t really know how to move around her right now so just did what she was doing. Then she gathered up enough laundry to wash with the sheets, and when she got back to the kitchen, Lou was drinking coffee and looking down at it; she nodded when Debbie came downstairs

When Debbie had poured and sugared her tea and Lou had said nothing and continued to look on in silence, Debbie asked: “Okay, on a scale from ‘our relationship is ruined’ through ‘never ask me to do that again’ and ‘this was kind of unfair and sad’ to ‘loved it, down anytime’ where are you at right now?”

Lou seemed amused by the scale, at least. “Too early to tell,” she answered, but she turned to the counter and Debbie when she said it.

Debbie nodded and kissed Lou’s head and said “Love you” and went upstairs to read and didn’t ask again. If it mattered, Lou would say.

And she did, after a while, after a fashion: Lou slid into Debbie's bed beside her and unbraided the end of her hair and said, in a joking voice, "I didn't take full advantage of this. Some warning would have been nice."

"Well," Debbie said, "sometime in the next, you know, year and a half, I might ask again." Maybe she was granting permission, saying that, for Lou to look at her differently. And maybe she should.

"I hope you give me at least a couple months to plan," Lou said, re-tying the braid.

None of the replies to Lou were quite as funny, so she just said, "You know how I love a good plan."

"Yeah," said Lou, "I figured it's your favorite part of sex."

Debbie laughed, but she rolled her eyes. "Usually my favorite part of sex is not having it," she said. She shrugged. "Thank you," she said. It sounded almost tentative.

Lou shrugged, too, Debbie could feel it. When she looked at Lou, Lou was looking at her braid again, not at her face. "How could I say no?"

**Author's Note:**

> well uh that happened
> 
> I'll try to add something a little less sad in this universe before bailing on it......at some point I'll probably write something w the friends


End file.
